


R&S Investigations

by KarenIverson



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-07-28 11:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 18,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7637743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarenIverson/pseuds/KarenIverson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What really happened after Shaw got the phone call? How the next part of Root and Shaw's lives unfolds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Day the World Came Back

**Author's Note:**

> Root is alive. So is Shaw. This is what happens next!
> 
> This is my first attempt at fan fiction. All helpful feedback is appreciated!

As soon as Shaw heard the text-to-landline lady say the address, she knew as surely as she knew she was breathing, that Root was alive.

  
Standing outside of room 1458 of the Suffolk hotel, Shaw paused briefly to consider this might be a trap, but quickly realized she just didn't care. It's highly unlikely Samaritan or it's agents would have understood the significance of this address enough to use it against her. The instant her knuckles rapped on the door, possibly quite a bit harder than was strictly necessary, the door was flung open and Shaw felt an odd sense of Deja Vu. But this time it was not merely a name on a file standing in front of her and then there was no more time for thinking as Shaw pushed through the door and wrapped her arms tightly around Root.

Root had been expecting anger, or shock, or maybe a bit of relief, but not this, not a full on body hug. Root's shoulders dropped as she wrapped her arms around the love of her life and the tears began to fall unchecked on the top of Shaw's head.

"Hey Sweetie. Did you miss me?"

"Root. Is it really you?" Root's hand rose to brush Shaw's face and pressed firmly on the spot behind Shaw's left ear, just in case Shaw needed reassurance this was real. Bear pushed his nose into Root's other hand and let out his own muffled "woof" of joy.

"In the flesh Darlin'. A bit worse for wear but nonetheless all me. It's so good to..."

Shaw planted a kiss right on Root's mouth, taking Root by surprise and shutting her up in the process. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Root threaded her hands into Shaw's hair and pulled her closer.

The kiss started as a tender reaffirmation that they both were alive. Until Shaw started undoing the buttons on Root's shirt as she steadily drove Root back to the bed with the sheer intensity of her kiss. Root was only too happy to unzip Shaw's hoody and push if off her shoulders. When the back of Root's knees hit the bed, she sat down and went straight for the button on Shaw's jeans. 

Shaw was desperate to feel Root's skin under her fingers, pushing Root's shirt off and running her fingers down Root's ribs until they hit the bandage just above Root's hip. She broke the kiss.

"How badly were you hurt Root?"

"Later. We can talk about it later. I need you. Here and now. That can wait." Root fell back on the bed, pulling Shaw on top of her. The need to feel and smell and taste Shaw all at once was overwhelming. Root pulled Shaw's head towards her and bit her on the neck, inhaling the slightly exotic smell that clung to Shaw's skin. Musky with a delicious hint of sun kissed oranges.

Shaw needed no further encouragement. 

Bear made himself comfortable on the easy chair.


	2. Root Tells All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obviously Root's death was faked.... here's how it went down.

As the passion cooled on their skin and their breathing slowly returned to normal, Root and Shaw lay facing each other, with the sheets tangled around their legs. Root idly traced designs on Shaw's back, needing still to touch Shaw more. She could never get enough of the feel of her Sameen. 

Shaw looked deep into Root's eyes and gently traced the edges of Root's bandage. "Tell me. Tell me all of it."

"The day after you came back, The Machine told me she had finally won a simulation. Adding you back into the team changed the outcome. And then she broke the bad news. To win, Harold had to set The Machine free to not only defend herself, but to take action against Samaritan. And only my death would make that happen." Root took a steadying breath and continued.

"At one point that wouldn't have bothered me at all. I told Harry on many occasions that war requires sacrifice and there wasn't a chance of us all making it out of this. I once told him that after the life I had led, a good death would be a privilege and I was fully ready to die during this fight. When you were" Root's voice broke "gone, it would have been easy for me to die. But when I found you again, I was devastated. Freeing The Machine had been my sole purpose at one time, but that was before you."

"Still, if it meant you being alive and safe, I was, if not exactly enthusiastic about it, willing to die. When I was in the car after being shot, The Machine told me it was time. That she would do everything she could to save me and fake my death, but that it was time for me to be gone and spur Harry onto action."

Shaw shook her head, her hair tickling Root’s arm, "The Machine calls him Harry?"

Root laughed softly. "I added that little quirk into her coding one night when I was stuck in the subway without a safe, above ground identity. Sometimes little things make life more bearable." Root kissed Shaw's shoulder, "Like little Persian firecrackers."

"I lost consciousness on the way to the hospital and when I woke up in the ICU, there was a doctor there. Dr. Enbright. She told me she would take care of everything and not to be afraid. The Machine told me to trust her, and so I did. I woke up two days later, in a hospital bed in someone else's safe house. My bullet wound had been patched and my cochlear implant had been removed. I had lost my connection to The Machine and I didn't know if any of you were still alive. I cried for The Machine and the rest of the team. But mostly, I cried for you."

"I watched you defeat Samaritan from the safety of a hospital bed outside of New York. I had TV. I knew when it was over. When Dr. Enbright released me. I went to the subway. What a mess! What did you guys do down there?"

"No way Root. You finish your story and then I'll tell mine."

"I found The Machine had rebooted. It was only the core code that survived and it was waiting for Admin to log on. And so I did. I pretty much worked around the clock to get the baby Machine running enough for me to find you. Today it had finally grown enough to do that. I wondered if you would pick up the payphone. I wondered if you would recognize this address. I wondered if you would come for me. I had a myriad of questions and the second you stepped through the door, I had all the important answers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is welcome!!!!
> 
> Should I keep going????


	3. Shaw Returns the Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Root has told her story, Shaw lets Root know what happened. 
> 
> But since we've all seen the episodes after Root's death was faked, I won't cover that ground again.

“Fusco is back to work. His stab wound is healing well. Neither of us has heard anything from John or Harold.” Both Root and Shaw were silent for a moment, wondering if their team mates were dead. “Does The Machine have any information about them?”

“Honestly Sameen, as soon as I got The Machine back up, I gave it a single task – to find you. That’s the only thing I was interested in.”

“I went to your grave.” Shaw hadn't planned to blurt that out quite so baldly. “I thought I should say goodbye. Which, in retrospect seems kind of stupid because if you were dead – you wouldn't be there to hear me say goodbye and if you weren't dead – then I didn't need to say goodbye. I'm glad it was the second one.” 

“Me too Sweetie.”

“The Machine talked to me when I was there. She used your voice. It was creepy and yet oddly comforting.” A small smile crossed Root’s features at that confession. “She told me Samaritan had dug you up for your implant.”

“I guess that’s why She had it removed – she needed it to lure Samaritan.” 

Shaw reached over and gently felt the small bandage behind Root’s ear. “Do you miss having The Machine in your head all the time?”

“She rarely had the opportunity to speak to me since we got our new identities – and as Samaritan grew it became increasingly dangerous. Now I mostly notice how quiet it is on that side of me”

“I found the guy who killed you. I hunted him down. He tried to talk me out of taking revenge.” Shaw said with a grim chuckle.

“And how did that turn out for him?”

“Two shots, centre of mass. I knew it wouldn't bring you back and still, I did it anyway.”

“I killed Martine for exactly the same reason. Guess we’re even on revenge killing now. But anybody who tries to hurt my beautiful girl in the future will end up the same way.” They contemplated that in silence for a moment. Then Root moved her head to kiss the new tattoo over Shaw’s heart.

“I see The Machine gave you my message.”

“When did you have time to give it to her?”

“In the ambulance, before I lost consciousness. In case She couldn't save me, I needed to say goodbye to you. What made you decide to get it inked?”

“I read a time travel novel on a stakeout once. The main characters had to split up and she was returning to modern time. She asked her husband from the past to mark her, so that whenever anyone in her own time tried to convince her she was crazy, she would have a visible reminder that she wasn't."

“I … After you …. After you were gone, there was a gigantic hole in my heart. I thought if I marked myself with your message, it would mean a part of you was always with me.”

Root traced the forward slash symbol with an arrow pointing at it with her tongue. “I love it.” Root whispered, her breath cool against the slight dampness from her kiss. “I think I need to very, very closely examine every square inch of your skin. Just to see if you acquired any other new marks or scars while I was gone.”

Shaw’s lips quirked into a small smile, “I’ll do yours if you do mine.”

Root’s tongue stopped and astonishment crossed her face. “Sameen Shaw! Did you just throw one of my own lines back at me?”

“You meant it then. I mean it now. Let’s get the party started.”

And they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The novel Shaw is referencing is Dragonfly in Amber by Diana Gabaldon.
> 
> As always feedback is greatly appreciated.


	4. Morning Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root and Shaw decide what to do with the rest of their lives.

The only concession Root and Shaw made to the world outside of their room, was to take Bear for a walk and pick up some takeout. They spent the rest of the night getting reacquainted with each other and each others’ bodies, finally falling asleep in the early hours of morning, still wrapped tightly in each others’ arms; as if afraid they might lose each other during the night.

Shaw lay awake staring at Root as the night faded into day. As the light changed, the sharp planes of Root’s cheekbones came into focus first, followed shortly thereafter by enough sunlight to illuminate all of Root’s face. She looked tired, exhausted in fact, and although neither had mentioned it the night before, it was very apparent to Shaw’s eyes and hands that Root had lost far more weight than she could afford to. Shaw was certain she could nurse Root back into shape in short order. She caught herself staring at Root’s mouth, those lips that drove her to distraction, and frequently annoyance, with a mischievous half smile or blatant innuendo. Shaw wanted to lean over and taste them this morning, but held herself back, reluctant to disturb Root's sleep.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Root whispered.

Shaw smiled, and since Root was obviously awake, gave into her desire and kissed Root squarely on those lovely lips. Root opened her eyes in the middle of the kiss and unblinkingly stared into Shaw’s eyes even as the kiss deepened. It was Shaw who blinked first. It was always Shaw who blinked first.

“I want to wake up like that every day” whispered Root, leaving _for the rest of my life_ unspoken, and waited for Shaw to break eye contact and pull away. Shaw rolled her eyes a little, half heartedly, as if doing so for forms’ sake, but instead of pulling away defensively, she kissed Root again, this time adding a bit of tongue to the mix. So when she pulled away a few seconds later, Root didn't feel that Shaw was running away, which Root found disconcerting but nonetheless, uplifting.

“I'm gonna walk Bear and grab us some breakfast. You stay in bed till I get back. Doctor’s orders.” Root opened her mouth to reply but Shaw cut her off. “Since I know how much you love it when I play doctor.” Root threw back her head and laughed a full deep and throaty laugh that had Shaw’s heart rate speeding up. Shaw wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed, but Bear was sniffing at the door and needed a walk. And, dammit, she had burned a lot of calories over night and was hungry.

They ate breakfast in bed, leaning against the headboard, touching at the thigh and shoulder, companionably silent. Comfortable to just be next to each other without needing to fill the space with words. When they finished eating, it was Root who started the conversation they both knew was coming.

“That morning, in the safe house, you said you thought it would be nice to go back. To before this all started.” Root struggled a bit for the next words, “Is that what you’d like? To go back? To before all of this? To before us?” her voice fading to a whisper on the last question. Shaw took Root’s hand in her own, lacing their fingers together, palm to palm. She thought about what she wanted to say, about how to say it and then just plunged ahead.

“There are some things I would like to change. I can do without worrying if either of us is going to get killed on a daily basis. But other things….Whatever we want to do now, it only matters to me, that we do it together. I need you in my life. You said in the park that you can’t live without me. Well, I have no interest in living without you either.”

Root let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding but Shaw continued on before she could say anything. “I liked it when we helped people; the ones who didn't deserve to have trouble find them. Like Gen, or Simon, or that 911 operator. If I don’t have to risk our asses to save con men run afoul of drug dealers or other idiots like that, I’d be OK with that.”

“So, we’d be the good guys, on the up and up?” 

Shaw smiled at that one. “I wouldn't go that far. I’d still like to kick ass and ask questions later when possible, and I'm sure,” Shaw bent down to kiss Root’s fingers, “these fingers would die of boredom if they didn't get to … ahem…. slip through a few firewalls now and then.”

“You know me so well. Let me see if I've got this then. You want to help good guy numbers and if some violence and not-strictly-legal hacking were involved, you’d be good with that.”

“Not sure if I’d include the last bit on our business cards, but yah, I think I’d like that. Can you get The Machine to help us?”

“It’ll take me a while but I do love a challenge. Look how long it took me to get you…” Root did her odd two-eyed blink thing. “Speaking of which….you gonna move in with me Sweetie?”

Shaw rolled her eyes and the next phase of the ‘rest of their lives’ negotiations began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for kudos and comments.
> 
> All feedback is greatly appreciated!


	5. Practicalities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of women living in New York need to have some cash flow. Root arranges this in the most Root-like way possible.

Shaw let herself into the subway, carefully balancing some take out and Root’s vanilla latte. It was so odd seeing all the changes that had happened over the last week since the three of them had moved down there. The gigantic hole in the wall had been repaired, flooring had been laid over the tracks and in the corner was a newly created workout area, where Shaw assisted with or forced Root to do her daily physiotherapy exercises.

Shaw put the food down on the dining room table she had adamantly insisted Root rescue from the safe house and then, just as steadfastly, refused to tell Root why. Shaw had a lot of patience, when she chose to, and she was biding her time until the right set of circumstances presented themselves for letting Root in on the story of the table. Up until then, it gave her a secret thrill to see it in the same room as Root.

Root was working at the array of monitors now placed along the side wall of the station. Shaw loved to watch her work at the keyboard, perfect posture with fingers flying swiftly and lightly over the keys, convincing the code to bend to her will. In this instance though, perhaps the code wasn't dancing to Root’s whims as she was squinting at the screen. Her hair had fallen forward over her shoulder, exposing a long stretch of ivory skin. Shaw placed her hands gently on Root’s shoulders and started nibbling on Root’s exposed neck. Root shivered, her fingers ceased their typing and she tipped her head to allow Shaw better access. Shaw’s hands slid slowly downwards, coming to rest over Root’s breasts, where she could feel nipples hardening under her palms as Root’s breath hitched in her throat.

“Lunch time” Shaw whispered in Root’s left ear.

“Our new bed was just delivered – perhaps we could … test it out first?”

Shaw pulled her hands back up to the side of Root’s face and gave her a sloppy upside down kiss on the forehead. “Lunch first, possible test drive later.”

“Sameen……please?”

“Nope! Food first. Then… maybe….”

They settled at the table and started in on their sandwiches and fresh fruit.

“What were you working on? That didn't sound like your usual coding rhythm.”

“I was just solving our cash flow issue.”

Shaw stopped eating, surprise on her features. “We have cash flow?”

“Harry has a lot of money just sitting idle since he became Professor Whistler. I'm working on making some of it available to us. I don’t think he’d begrudge us the funds.”

Shaw pondered that for a moment. “Or maybe he’s dead and won’t know it’s gone.”

“If he is still alive, I'm making sure he’ll know it’s us.”

“Obviously Harold isn't going to press any charges but what if someone else tracks us down and wants to?”

“Please Sameen. I've been doing this for a long time, and can hide my tracks very well. I started by transferring…..” Root kept droning on in nerd speak, obviously proud of the steps she’d taken and the safeguards she had built, but Shaw didn't care and was distracted by Root eating strawberries. One. At. A. Time. She would pluck one from the bowl with those incredibly long fingers and place it between teeth that often drove Shaw crazy when they bit her neck, and then Root’s tongue would dart out to lick juice off her perfect red lips.

Root noticed Shaw’s pupils dilate and nostrils flare slightly as she brought another strawberry up to her mouth. Root paused with the berry at the edge of her lips and waited until Shaw’s eyes snapped up to meet hers. Their gazes locked. Root stared frankly into Shaw's eyes, letting everything she felt show. Whereas before, Shaw would look away, this time she did not. Shaw was breathing noticeably faster and her heart beat, visible in the vein of her neck, had sped up. Root's breathing picked up to mirror Shaw's. 

“I guess it’s time for dessert now….” Root said nothing as Shaw took her hand and led her from the table to the small bedroom they had each used when hiding from Samaritan’s prying eyes. The tiny cot had been replaced by a queen sized bed, although the purple shag rug and lava lamp were still there. Shaw thought they looked silly and was about to say something, until those strawberry flavoured lips settled on hers and any remaining rational thought fled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missions will be coming up.
> 
> Plus, eventually, there will be more about the table....eventually.....


	6. Final Exams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you know when you are ready to take on the world? You pass final exams of course....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When referencing the original machine pre the finale - I will refer to it as The Machine. When I talk about the new version of the machine, I will call it TM (so basically version 2.0 - post AI apocalypse).
> 
> The last paragraph is a bit of a different approach, let me know if you like it or not. 
> 
> Feedback is ALWAYS welcome!

Almost two months had passed since Root and Shaw were reunited. Time passed quickly for them. Shaw spent her days working out, supervising Root's rehab and being the fox to TM's hound is it grew in its capabilities. And she had spent a lot of time, reluctantly at first, looking for an above ground place for them to live. Both Root and Shaw missed having windows; it did get a bit oppressive living under artificial lighting all the time. Root had been writing code pretty steadily, when Shaw wasn't dragging her away from the keyboard to do physio, or walk Bear, or basically live a normal life.

Today Root was pretty sure they were almost ready. She started a test program, feeling fairly confident if no problems were identified, it would be time to start the new numbers protocol. She wondered idly into the kitchen to snag an apple. Her gaze fell on the dining room table.

Whenever Shaw's hand would start to sneak up behind her ear, Root's heart would break a bit and she would hurt for the pain Shaw had suffered during Samaritan's simulations. Root would touch Shaw in those moments, to ground her in their reality and to physically remind her they were together and that this was not a simulation. When Shaw felt Root's touch, the pain and confusion would disappear from her face, her shoulders would drop and she would breathe again.

The only time it was different was in those odd moments Shaw's hand crept up to her ear while she was staring at the table she had insisted be brought from the safe house. In these unguarded moments, it wasn't pain or confusion on Shaw's face, but as if a fond memory was being replayed in her head. Shaw had, so far, refused to discuss the table and no matter how much Root cajoled or pleaded, a secretive smile would transform her face and she would merely say, "Someday".

The sound of Shaw angrily slamming the door broke Root's reverie. The colour was running high on Shaw's cheeks as she stormed over to the couch and threw herself down.

"Bad day in the world Sweetie?" Root sat down next to Shaw without touching her. When Shaw was angry, it was better not to touch her until she got herself in check, unless of course, she was angry at Root. Then it was better to touch her as much as possible, preferably while they were getting naked as quickly as they could.

"I just viewed an apartment. It was perfect, but the building manager was a real dick. A grade A, straight laced asshole."

"What happened?" Root started to reach out to take Shaw's hand and thought better of it - perhaps not quite yet.

"It's a no singles allowed building. Couples and families only. So as he's showing me through the place, he keeps talking about how much my husband would love this feature, and how this room would be great for a nursery if our union was blessed with little ones - he actually used those words. I wanted to punch him right in the throat. When I asked about rent and fees, he went all 'I could tell you but I'd rather discuss that with the head of the household - I wouldn't want you to be confused. Women have such poor heads for figures'. My hand was itching so badly to draw my gun and kneecap him that I had to shove my hands in my pockets and get the hell out of there. He was such an ass."

"And?" This time Root reached over and gently placed her palm on Shaw's forearm. Shaw slid her hand into Root's and locked their fingers.

"I really, really liked the place. We could have space for a gym, and there was lots of room for Bear and even a self contained guest suite - although I'm not sure who'd we ever have in there."

"I bet Gen would love to visit if we invited her. It sounds perfect. We could..." Whatever Root was about to say was interrupted by the chime signalling TM had finished running its program. 

Shaw looked at Root, still sitting there holding her hand, but looking eagerly towards TM. "You gonna get that?"

Root hurried over to the monitor and then looked back at Shaw with a luminous smile on her face. "She's ready!"

"For what?"

"For us to test Her out in real time. To give us a number."

Shaw swallowed. She thought they would have more time. She had been ready to kick ass for a long time, but Root, well that was a different story. "Well then," Shaw said, shedding her jacket and bending to remove her boots, "looks like it's final exam time for you too."

"What do you mean?"

"There's no way in hell I'm letting you out in the field until you've proven you're physically ready." Shaw inclined her head towards the sparring mats. "Let's go."

Root smiled, stepped out of her bunny slippers and joined her on the mat. Shaw went easy on Root at first, testing her stamina, seeing if there were weak spots from her injuries until Root surprised her with a particularly inventive move that ended with the back of Root's fist smacking Shaw's mouth. Root had the audacity to smirk and Shaw weighed in in earnest.

Fifteen minutes later Shaw called a halt to the proceedings and a big smile lit up her features.

"What?" Root asked, leery of a trick.

"I'm proud of you. You've worked hard and it shows. Set TM off for its final exam and I'll make us something to eat."

They had just finished doing the dishes when a distinctively electronic rendition of a phone ringing rang out of TM's speakers. Root laughed at Shaw's puzzled expression. "I coded in a bit of nostalgia for my own enjoyment. She's found us something."

Three hours later, Root and Shaw sat on the porch swing of a modest sized bungalow in a suburb. Inside four people had gathered to watch Jeopardy. The owner of the house, Stanley, was one of the contestants and tonight his fourth appearance was being broadcast. Based on social media group chats, posts and some emails, a few of Stanley's old high school classmates were pissed off the nerd they had terrorized ten years ago was successful and they had all ended up in dead end jobs. Being a jock didn't guarantee success but being a nerd often paid off. TM predicted at least three of Stanley's haters were planning to show up and make Stanley pay for his success. 

Root slipped her hand into Shaw's jacket pocket and pulled her closer. "Jeopardy doesn't start for ten minutes. Wanna neck?"

"Seriously? Neck? Are we back in high school now?"

"We're sitting on a porch, trying not to be noticed by the adults inside, waiting for bullies to show up - seemed appropriate. Perhaps we could cross the line into some heavy petting too." Shaw rolled her eyes even though it was probably too dark in the porch corner for Root to see them, but nevertheless leaned in to participate, keeping her eyes on the street while Root's hands roamed freely over Shaw.

A dented Ford Focus rust bucket pulled up to the curb and three guys got out. Shaw broke the kiss. "Only three of them. You want to handle this by yourself?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Root unfurled her long limbs and sauntered over to the top step, blocking the passage of the three bullies. "Hello boys. Looks like you've got the wrong address."

Bad Haircut ran his eyes down and up Root's body dismissively. "This doesn't concern you. Get out of the way and you won't get hurt."

"I was about to say that to you. Although I'd much rather teach you all a lesson."

ACDC T-shirt scoffed, "You and what army?"

"Just me actually. My girlfriend over there," Root inclined her head to the porch swing, "is only gonna join in if more of you idiots arrive."

"Bullshit!" said Bad Haircut and he laid his hand on Root's arm, clearly intending to push her out of the way.

"And that's your first mistake." Shaw said under her breath.

Root kneed Bad Haircut in the chest, knocking him off the stairs. She descended to ground level like an avenging goddess and started in on the other two.  


Shaw got up and walked over to the head of the stairs, leaning casually on the post to get a better view of her girl kicking ass. It was patently obvious to her eyes Root was playing with them, drawing the fight out for her own enjoyment. The door opened behind her and all four of the house's inhabitants spilled onto the porch. Shaw stopped them from going any further with an arm across their path. 

"What's going on?" Stanley asked.

"Some of your high school bullies showed up to express their displeasure with your Jeopardy appearance. My friend and I thought we'd stop them."

"We need to help her!"

"Oh please!" Shaw rolled her eyes at the thought. "She's not even warmed up yet."

A guy in the back obviously impressed with Root's prowess, nudged his buddy, "She's so hot!"

Shaw gave him a side-eye. "Yeah she is and she's all mine."

A battered pickup truck screeched to a halt at the curb and two guys got out. One of them clutched a baseball bat and they moved to join the fray. 

Shaw popped her neck. "Oh goody! I get to play too." She looked at Stanley and his buddies, "Step off this porch and I'll kick your asses when we're done with them."

Root and Shaw played with the bullies for a few minutes but eventually decided they had toyed with them long enough. Wouldn't want the police showing up to the party. Root saved Bad Haircut for last. He was on his knees and she had him by the collar. "You bother these guys again - and I'll find you- and this won't even begin to compare to what I'll do to you. You understand?"

He sobbed out a thick "yes" and then Root knocked him out with a solid punch to the chin. She grinned over at Shaw who was dusting off her hands as she walked back to the porch. Drawing a business card out of her coat pocket, she handed it to Stanley, winked at him and said, "Call us if they give you any more trouble."

Shaw couldn't pull Root through the door fast enough! She slammed it after them and pinned Root to it, holding her in place, hips to thighs. It was pitch dark in this part of the subway but neither of them reached for the light switch. Their lips found each other instantly and unerringly. They say blind people’s other senses are heightened. Without being able to see, Root and Shaw were reduced to contrasting textures and sounds. The rough wool of Shaw’s coat against the silkiness of Root’s shirt and the lace of her bra. Cold fingers brushed hot flesh. Aggressive growls met whimpers. Sharp teeth and soft lips. Fingernails and pliant flesh. Biting. Licking. Sucking. Kissing. In all wars, the spoils go to the victors. Where Root and Shaw’s mouths and hands claimed victory, the remainder of their bodies seemed quite content to yield. On the cold concrete floor, in utter darkness, their own unique four alarm fire blazed, burning away their old lives and giving rise to their new beginning. Graduation day had arrived and life unfolded before them.


	7. Domesticity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pesky details.... like getting a place to live..And why hasn't TM come up with a number yet?

As she neared full consciousness, Shaw reached across the bed and felt for Root, as she had done every single morning since they were reunited. The sheets were cold, which brought a frown to Shaw’s face, Root had already been up for a while and it disturbed her a bit that she hadn't woken when Root had left. Shaw couldn't hear much, Root was being quiet but, sniffing deeply, she realized she could smell something mouth watering… not pancakes… but… she wasn't sure what it was.

Shaw sat up and reached for the T-shirt and lounge pants she had shed the night before. She dug a pair of socks out from under the bed where she had taken to hiding them. Not from Bear, he was too well mannered for that, but from Root, who kept stealing them and leaving those damn slippers in their place. The subway floor was icy cold but there was no freaking way she was wearing the slippers Root bought her. While they weren't bunny slippers, they were fuzzy and Shaw refused to do fuzzy.

Shaw crept quietly out of the bedroom, stopping in the shadows to watch Root in the kitchen area. The loose T-shirt, leggings and damn bunny slippers did nothing to detract from how unbelievably hot Root’s body was. Her hair was all bed-messy, tumbling haphazardly about her shoulders, as she worked at the counter. Shaw could watch Root move for hours, so fluid, so sensual, and so enchanting. Root was a fire in the night, the tongues of her flames mesmerizing as she burned, flaring up, subsiding, relentless until all was consumed.

Shaw could feel her heart pounding in her ears and swore it skipped a few beats and her fingers flexed involuntarily as Root bent to retrieve something from a bottom drawer. Shaw wanted Root, instantly, deeply and without a doubt. This deep need for Root continued to surprise Shaw with its frequency and its depth. She had assumed it would fade with time and nearness, that her desperation to consume Root and in turn, be consumed by her, would lessen. In the past, in her three and done days, by the third meeting she had already been losing interest, no matter how good the sex was.

This, with Root, was so different, so far away from that experience; she didn't understand what these feelings were or what they meant. And worst of all, she didn't know what to do about them. Should she try to lessen her dependence on Root, on touching her whenever she wanted, on reaching for her in the night and knowing she would be there? The thought of that made her stomach heave and filled her with something dark and cold she didn't want to explore.

Shaw’s eyes tracked Root as she carried cutlery to the table – that damn table that was screwing with her head and frustrating her to no end. She was severely losing patience. Three. Measly. Conditions. Shaw required only three things before she recreated her fantasy with Root on that damn table, but so far the stars had refused to align themselves; and it didn't look promising for today either.

Root caught sight of Shaw standing in the doorway with a strange look on her face and a shadow of worry crossed her features before being replaced by a warm smile. “Hey Baby. Breakfast is ready.”

Shaw sat as Root slid two plates of strawberry cream cheese stuffed French toast onto the table and then retrieved their coffees before taking the seat across from her. Shaw attacked her meal with gusto, while Root sat and watched her.

“What?” Shaw said without looking up from her plate, wincing as it came out a little more harshly than she meant.

“I love to watch you attack your food. I love it even more when I'm the food.” Shaw swallowed audibly and looked up from her plate, that cold emotion replaced instantly by a flood of heat. Her mouth opened slightly as she watched Root lick her lips. Shaw swallowed again and lifted her eyes to meet Root’s, who quirked an eyebrow in open invitation. Unsettled by those recent dark thoughts, Shaw returned her eyes to her own plate, wondering how even after an evening of hot sex that lasted way into the morning hours, she still wanted to devour Root.

Root, interpreting Shaw’s downcast eyes as a deferral rather than an outright refusal, started in on her own breakfast. “Got plans today Sweetie?”

And here was the rub, the thing that was making Shaw so uneasy, the tug of war between wanting to draw Root closer and push her away before Root consumed her. Root was going to read too much into this, and if she did, Shaw wouldn't get the opportunity to figure this thing out.

Shaw put her knife and fork down even though there was still food on her plate, which immediately caught Root’s attention. “Uh…. I have an appointment this morning.” Shaw did not meet Root’s eyes and was, in fact, doing everything she could to not even look at Root. “With a realtor.”

Root jumped to the logical conclusion for Shaw’s odd behaviour. “With that slimy creep who pissed you off the other day?” Root’s entire face lit up with a scary grin. “I’ll come with you. It’ll be like good cop – bad cop, only I’ll be the bad girlfriend out to avenge his insulting behaviour. I am a bit out of practice but I bet I can make him wet himself in less than ten minutes. Let me get my taser, you bring your knife for me.”

Shaw saw her opportunity and took it. “First of all, I will never be the good cop. You, the woman of a thousand personas, could be the good cop. But then only one of us would get the fun so maybe we could do good cop/bad cop and then either perky psycho or scary badass cop. I guess it would depend on the situation.” Shaw smiled at Root. “Second of all, no matter how out of practice you are, you’d have that guy soil himself in less than five minutes. Unless you do that thing where you straddled my lap, flipped your hair and painted designs in the air with my knife. That was so hot. He’d probably faint in under three minutes.”

Root’s eyebrows rose as she realized Shaw was describing last night’s antics – apparently Shaw had really, really enjoyed Root’s spur of the moment knife play.

“And thirdly, it’s not him. It’s some woman who is probably neither slimy nor creepy. And as for you being out of practice, if we don’t get a number soon perhaps we can go visit creepy boy later if needed. Can’t you do any super nerdy stuff to help TM get us a number while I go see the realtor?”

“Sameen, TM’s a baby, learning to walk. Unless we want to loosen our parameters, it’s going to take Her a while to find us someone.” Root tilted her head as a thought suddenly crossed her mind. The brightness in her eyes dimmed a bit. “If you don’t want me to come with you, just say so.”

Shaw saw that dimming and her guts clenched. “It’s not that precisely. It’s just this is probably going to turn out to be something we’re not interested in and I don’t want to waste time you could spend getting us closer to a number.” Shaw trailed off weakly.

“Hmm…. What’s going on Shaw?”

“Nothing dammit. Fine. Come with me and make no mistake, I will say ‘I told you so’ after this turns out to be a bust.”

Two hours later Root and Shaw arrived outside of the brownstone but the realtor was nowhere in sight. Shaw took one last chance. “The realtor’s not here. This place doesn't look right for us. Let’s just go.”

Root’s answer was cut off as the front door opened and an uncreepy looking woman stepped out onto the front step. “Ms. Shaw?”

Shaw gave a loud sigh and led the way up the steps to shake the woman’s hand. Root introduced herself as Shaw’s girlfriend, watching the woman for any type of reaction that might set Shaw off. Instead the woman shook Root’s hand warmly and led them inside.

*****

“And finally, this is the master bedroom. Obviously these are new windows. The previous owners wanted more natural light in this room. If you don’t have any more questions right now, I’ll just leave you two on your own. Take as long as you need, I’ll be in the kitchen if you want me.” The realtor discreetly closed the bedroom door behind her as she left.

“I love it!” Root said, spinning herself around in the middle of the room. She had already decided which room would be the gym and that they would convert the small anteroom off the kitchen into their weapons locker.

Shaw was standing by the windows that rose from the window seat almost up to the ceiling. “I think there’s some water damage here on this woodwork. It could be all over if they've had a flood.” Root came over to look at the non-existent, to her eyes anyway, spot Shaw was pointing at. Shaw shuffled as far away from Root as she could while still physically remaining in the same room. “I don’t think this is right for us.”

Root looked at Shaw standing uneasily by the wall near the ensuite door and cocked her head. “What’s wrong Sameen? You seem, well if you were anyone else, I would say nervous. Why are you so ill at ease?”

Shaw slid her eyes to the side, as if searching for an escape route. Noticing this, Root crossed the room, stopping just short of Shaw’s personal space boundary, being careful not to end up between Shaw and the exit. Studying the carpet intently, Shaw didn't look up. “This was a bad idea Root. Let’s just forget it.”

Torn between wanting to give Shaw room and wanting to know what was going on, Root made her decision and stepped closer, putting her hands on either side of Shaw’s head. Leaning down until their faces were inches apart, she whispered, “Please tell me what’s going on.”

It was the ‘please’ that did Shaw in. “Look. Ah…” She refused to look at Root’s face, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on Root’s collarbones. “Don’t get all weird about this.” Shaw’s voice faded a bit, and unwilling to examine her own reluctance to figure out what was going on , hoped to distract Root by sliding her hands around Root’s waist and kissing her on the right collarbone. Root sighed and leaned in a bit closer as Shaw licked her way across to the left one and started up her neck. 

At which point Root placed her own hands on Shaw’s shoulders, and leaned her head against the wall, effectively trapping Shaw in place. “Nice try, but I'm onto you. You don’t have to look at me if it makes it harder, just whisper in my ear. What’s really going on here?”

Shaw knew she was beaten, and despite her own reluctance, and her absolute certainty Root would read way, way too much into this, Ms. ‘Three-and-done’, Ms. ‘I don’t need anyone but myself’ came clean. “This place is not a rental. We would be buying a house together.”

Tears sprang immediately to Root’s eyes, but, realizing Shaw was afraid Root would construe this as an offer for a commitment Shaw wasn't ready to make, kept her head against the wall and refused to let them fall.

“Since technically it would be Harry buying us a place to live in, I don’t see anything to get weird about. I'm sure he owes us this in unpaid overtime alone.”

Shaw was confused or maybe relieved that Root wasn't making a big deal over this. She wasn't actually sure which one. Nevertheless, if Root was willing to overlook any stereotypical assumptions buying a house together could mean, she took the next step. “What now?” Shaw whispered.

Root did the only thing she could think of to get Shaw out of her head and a brain which demanded compartmentalizing and labels, and into her body, which was grounded by passion and touch. She fisted her hands in the front of Shaw’s hoody and pulled her into a deep searching kiss, invading Shaw’s mouth with her tongue and issuing a challenge. Stepping back towards the middle of the room, with their lips still locked, Root unzipped Shaw’s jacket. Shaw followed, taking all the kiss offered and giving back more, her fingers moving to unbutton Root’s shirt.

As Root drew them down to kneel on the floor, she ran her hands up Shaw’s torso, skimming her bra and T-shirt off in one go, breaking the kiss only when the shirt got in the way. Shaw paused and looked squarely into those liquid brown eyes, “So you wanna get it then?”

Root never broke eye contact and watched as the cold and dark unease in Shaw’s eyes gave way to warmth and fire. “Oh yes I do!” And Root, being, well Root, slid back into familiar habits she knew would irritate or ignite her Persian firecracker, didn't really matter which, as Root was certain the results would be the ones she wanted. “And then we’re gonna have sex in every single room. At least once. In the first week alone.”

Shaw’s nostrils flared as she very firmly pushed Root down to the floor and straddled Root’s hips in what would most likely become the location of their bed. Shaking her head, she glanced at the bedroom door. “I would love to get a head start on that but the realtor could come back any second.”

Arching up, Root gave a light and flirty laugh into Shaw’s mouth that did deep and lustful things to Shaw. “Oh Baby, she’s a lot smarter than that. But we don’t own the place yet, so this one doesn't count. It’s just a stolen freebie”. 

Root deepened the kiss and was surprised when Shaw pulled back, although her hands didn't stop undoing Root’s bra. “But don’t expect me to go furniture shopping with you, Root. And we’re getting a housekeeper.”

Root’s hands went to Shaw’s jeans and her assent was lost in the rasp of Shaw’s zipper opening.

*****

When they finally rejoined the realtor in the kitchen, she very wisely chose not to point out that Root’s shirt was cross buttoned or that Shaw’s T-shirt was now inside out. When faced with a fat commission, some things are better left unsaid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time writing uneasy Shaw. I hope I was convincing. Please tell me if you think I got her right... or wrong....
> 
> More table to come.... I promise....
> 
> Let me know if you want creepy realtor to get his due in the future...
> 
> As always comments are welcome!!!


	8. Dinner is Served

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That damn table that's been haunting Shaw.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about damn time.... I just couldn't wait any longer..... 
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to leave kudos and comments. I do truly appreciate all of you who have let me know how you feel about my story.

Root was putting the cutlery down next to Shaw’s place setting when the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She froze in place. Listening to the warning signals her body gave off was the reason she was a retired killer for hire and not a dead one. The itch in the middle of her back meant she was being watched. She hadn't heard anything, but if they were approaching from the right that wasn't unexpected. She sniffed cautiously but couldn't smell anything unusual beyond the lasagne she had just taken from the oven.

Letting her hand rest casually on the hilt of the knife she had just put down, she turned slowly to the right. The danger was real and standing a few feet away. The primal part of Root’s brain took over. Her eyes widened, expanding her view, looking for an escape route. Her heart rate and breathing sped up. She was a fragile gazelle caught unprotected in the open and her next move would determine her fate.

Shaw was unnervingly still, until her left hand lifted a few inches and then stopped in mid air. Her feral eyes raked Root’s body quickly before returning to Root’s eyes and pinning her in place. Her predatory gaze narrowed until all she saw was the prey she had selected. Whatever move Root made, she would be ready.

Shaw padded one small step forward, her movement smooth and catlike. Her eyes stayed glued to Root’s, a question in them unspoken but broadcast more clearly than if it was on a billboard in Times Square.

Fear and excitement coursed through Root’s veins, desire and arousal rolled off her skin in waves and Shaw’s nostrils flared. Root could feel the flush reddening her chest. She wanted nothing more in this moment than to be the prey Shaw was hunting, for Shaw to consume her, body and soul. Her eyes never wavered from Shaw’s and she didn't blink as she lifted her chin and turned it slightly to the side, baring her long slender neck to Shaw’s teeth.

“Take me. I'm yours.” Root wasn't sure if she had actually spoken the words or merely thought them. It didn't matter. Shaw heard her.

Shaw stepped forward until their bodies were only a breath apart. Her left hand came up, detoured slightly towards her own ear, and then changed course to tenderly caress Root’s cheek. Root closed her eyes momentarily as she felt the soft caress, lost in the velvet softness of Shaw’s fingers. Shaw’s other hand came up, holding Root’s head steady as Root opened her eyes and focused on Shaw’s mouth. When Shaw initiated a tender kiss, Root’s hands came up behind Shaw’s head, holding her closer, seeking to deepen the kiss, to stretch this moment into eternity. She bit lightly on Shaw’s upper lip and was unprepared for the explosion that followed.

Shaw dropped her shoulder, planting it firmly in Root’s midsection and pushed her back onto the table with such force Root’s long limbs recoiled around Shaw’s body and dishes cascaded over the side of the table to shatter on the concrete. Their mouths clashed together, the predator seeking to devour and the prey fighting to survive.

Shaw broke the kiss, breathless from its intensity, and grabbed the front of Root’s shirt in both hands. She ripped it open with one forceful yank; the buttons pinging distantly on the floor, barely heard by either of them. Root thrust her chest forward, needing to feel Shaw’s hands on her blazing hot skin. As Shaw pushed the remnants of Root’s shirt down her arms, she leaned in to whisper into Root’s good ear. “Bite. Me.”

For an instant at least, the prey became the predator. Root threaded her hands up behind Shaw’s head, entwining her long fingers into Shaw’s ponytail and pulled her head to the side. She could see Shaw’s jugular vein plump with blood, visibly pulsating just under the skin. Root’s lips drew back with a feral snarl, baring her canines and she bit deeply into Shaw’s pulse point, stopping just short of breaking the skin.

Shaw, in the process of undoing Root’s bra, paused and tried to regain some self control. A moan escaped Root’s throat, deep and guttural as she sucked madly on Shaw’s neck. Any semblance of control Shaw thought she had, fled. She broke Root’s hold and pushed her down on the table, flinging Root’s bra away. More dishes crashed as Root’s arms came up to grab at her own hair, totally lost in the feeling of Shaw’s hands as they travelled up her ribs and began to knead her breasts. Shaw’s mouth was hot and moist as it blazed a trail across Root’s abdomen, nipping and licking until her mouth was stopped by Root’s waistband.

“Sameen!” Root cried as Shaw’s hands and mouth suddenly broke contact with her skin. Filled with crashing waves of passion coursing through her but suddenly bereft of contact, Root sat up, grabbing for Shaw, desperate to re-establish contact. Shaw popped the button on Root’s jeans, madly grabbing at the material, trying to rip them off. Root lifted her hips, allowing Shaw to drag pants and panties down. The damn skinny jeans fought Shaw as she frantically tried to get them down the length of Root’s never ending legs. Finally they hit the floor and Root’s knees opened of their own accord, allowing Shaw to step in so close Root could feel the snap of her pants cold and hard against her lower belly.

Root went on the offensive, grabbing the hem of Shaw’s shirt and pulling it upwards. As it cleared her head, their eyes locked and they froze. Root could see need, and want, and desire clearly in Shaw’s eyes, but overwhelmingly she also saw, perhaps clearly for the very first time, a truly open, unguarded and vulnerable Shaw. Root, who never hid her emotions from Shaw; let everything she felt show. Desire and arousal were clear on her face, but in her eyes, acceptance and love. Pure, simple unconditional love poured directly from her heart and overflowed her eyes.

Shaw’s arms settled on Root’s shoulders and drew her closer. Their lips found each other, but where there had been lust and passion, now there was more. Even as the kiss deepened, their eyes stayed open, locked on each other. And, in that moment, their souls touched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amy Acker said in an interview (and I am paraphrasing) that while Root's feelings for Shaw had been clearly on display it wasn't until the episode 6741 that the audience got to see the relationship wasn't one sided. That Shaw also had pretty deep feelings for Root.
> 
> I needed to find a way to bring one of the best scenes in the entire series out of Shaw's mind and into "real life" for my interpretation of Root and Shaw. I wanted them to have it for real. And I wanted to interpret the scene from Root's point of view. 
> 
> I had planned this for a later chapter, after they moved into their own place, but I decided a) I couldn't wait any longer and b) it seemed fitting that something that happened to Shaw in captivity should come to fruition in the subway where they had fought against Samaritan.
> 
> Please feel free to let me know if you think I did this scene justice. It was a masterpiece in the show and it does feel a bit sacrilegious to touch it in anyway. And perhaps I got way too sappy....


	9. In the Aftermath of the Broken Dishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings... there will be feelings and broken dishes....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for me to get over all my personal fallout from the series.
> 
> The next chapter will (finally?) start with actual plot.....
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me!

“Oh. My. God.”

Shaw gave a small half grin as she climbed down off the table, pulling on their still entwined hands to convince Root to follow her. “Have I finally succeeded in rendering you speechless?”

“What was that?” Root stepped off the table, carefully picking her way through the minefield of broken dishes. Her skin was glowing, her hair was in glorious disarray and she reminded Shaw of a barefoot Queen regally descending from her throne. Oddly enough, her knees seemed a bit wobbly... but then so did Shaw's.

“Come to bed and let me tell you about that table.” They settled on their stomachs, facing each other, close enough that Root could idly trace designs on Shaw’s skin. Shaw let her because she knew Root needed the contact. Root couldn't believe Shaw wasn't pulling away and so kept doing it!

"When Samaritan ran simulations, they pumped me full of drugs and manipulated my thoughts in the direction they wanted them to go. At first, although they knew of the four of us, they didn't know our dynamics or our relationships. I'm not sure how they knew, but when they got things really wrong, they would end the simulation. So the first bunch ended early, because they just had no clue. I think the time they had John kiss me, I threw up in my mouth a bit.”

Root grinned at that but kept quiet, sensing Shaw needed to get this all out in one go.

“It didn't take long for them to realize you and I were way more than co-workers. When we were together it would ease my heart. Being with you gave me some peace. We had sex. A lot. Way too many times to count and in a lot of places; the table was one of my favourites."

As expected, Root's face lit up and a sexy little smirk played at her lips.

"I knew it wasn't really you, but I took refuge in you anyway. They never once came close to getting you right. I could always feel my own lust, desire, hunger, whatever you want to call it, for you, but the you in the sims never gave me anything back. It was a shell of you going through the motions. You looked like you were playing the part, quite enthusiastically I might add, but you never smelled right and your eyes were always; there was none of your sparkle. I…. I guess, flat or maybe empty is as good a description as any. There was never anything behind them.”

“Why didn't you tell me this before? Especially when I kept bugging you about the table?”

“I had three conditions before I would indulge myself and recreate sex on the dining room table. You had to be completely well and fully healed from your injury. You had to be wearing a button front shirt.“ Root arched her eyebrow at that statement. 

“It was such a primal thrill to rip it off you every time. T shirts just didn't do it for me.” 

Shaw stopped and dropped her eyes. Root gently lifted Shaw’s chin up so their eyes met again and asked softly, “And the third?”

Shaw swallowed but didn't break eye contact. “When I looked at you in front of the table, there needed to be life and sparkle and desire in your eyes. I needed to know it was really you and that you wanted me too. And you did not disappoint. I thought my clothes were going to burst into flame from the desire I saw in your eyes and when you bared your neck to me, it was as if I heard you screaming in my head that you were mine.”

“I had a strange sense of déjà vu inside my head, with so many similarities to the sims, but the rest of me knew this was real. When you bit me – that was the turning point – all thoughts of the sims vanished and I was totally here, with you; just us with no Samaritan, no drugs and no one watching. It was breathtakingly beautiful. It was so much better than I could've ever imagined.”

Shaw swallowed and dropped her eyes briefly, but quickly returned them to Root’s. “There was so much acceptance in your eyes I could hardly bear it. But there was something more than that, something I've never seen before. I'm not sure what it was.”

“That was love Sameen.” Root stopped there for a moment, not sure how Shaw was going to react.

Shaw gave a curt little nod and took her eyes away for a bit, to give herself some time to process that. Seeing that Shaw wasn't about to bolt from their bed, running and screaming for the door, Root took the next step.

“After all you've said tonight. After all these feelings you've just shared with me, how could you ever believe you don’t have emotions other than anger?”

Shaw pondered that for a moment, and then a few more, until Root wasn't sure she was going to answer. Root kept her hand on Shaw’s skin, letter her know with simple contact she wasn't alone.

Finally Shaw answered. “Gen once told me, it wasn't that I didn't have emotions, it was that they were turned way down and I needed to listen really hard to hear them. Dark, base emotions are easy to acknowledge and let out. But all those soft, mushy emotions I thought I didn't have, affection, empathy, caring for someone, those were weaknesses, to be tamped down so they didn't interfere with the mission. I got so good at ignoring those; it was like I didn't have them any longer.”

Shaw looked away, gathering her thoughts. Root continued to stroke Shaw’s side, using contact to ground her and prevent her from shutting down. Shaw took a deep breath and looked back into Root’s eyes. “Some parts of the sims were like my old life, kill this nameless guy, blow up a building, just jobs. When I … killed Reese or Fusco or Finch, it made me sad that I had betrayed my team members. But you, no matter how they slanted the scenario, when I looked into your face, it was as if my heart would start beating again. I was alive and I was,” Shaw struggled a bit to find the right word, finally settling on, “home. You were always my safe place, even when I knew it wasn't really you. And when we found each other in the park, I realized that feeling wasn't created by the drugs in the sim, it had been there all along. I had buried it and refused to acknowledge it. Somehow thinking I wasn't worthy of feeling all that for you.”

“Sameen,” Root started but Shaw shook her head and Root pressed her lips together.

“But at that same moment, a gigantic wave of fear washed over me. I was the most scared I had ever been in my entire life. If I felt that for you and anyone realized you are my weakness, they could use that against me. Against us. And I foolishly thought, as we stood there in the dark, you hugging me so tightly against you I could scarcely breathe, when all I really wanted to do was melt into your arms forever, that if I walked away from you, it would keep you safe.”

“But I wouldn't let you walk away. The Machine had finally brought you back to me and there was no way in hell I was letting you go again.”

“One look in your real eyes and I knew that with every cell in my body. I was overwhelmed with desperation to keep you safe, and killing myself seemed to be the most expedient way. I had done it thousands of times already, what’s one more, right?”

“I blew that plan too.” Root said with a wry smile, wiping a tear away.

Shaw chuckled. “Samaritan never once came up with that option and yet I don’t think I was truly surprised when you put your gun to your chin. Horrified yes, surprised no.”

“So where do we go from here?” Root whispered.

“I'm not sure. But I know we need to go there together. I need you Root.”

Root who was almost never at a loss for words, was speechless for the second time that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always... I really appreciate comments.... please let me know if you are enjoying this work....


	10. A number ..... Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally the plot begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing plot is a lot harder than I thought.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me and I appreciate all comments and feedback!

Shaw swiftly untangled her limbs from Root’s, rolled off the bed and into a fighting crouch before the second electronic chime rang through the bedroom. Root placed a calming hand on Shaw’s naked back and reached for one of the phones on the bedside table.

“Easy Baby. She’s got a number for us.” Shaw visibly relaxed her shoulders, took a deep breath and then crawled back into their bed, cocooning the blankets around them and whistling for Bear. It was early and it was cold, body heat was a good thing.

“Well? What does TM have for us?”

“We have an interview for our new housekeeper at ten this morning at the coffee shop.”

Shaw sagged a bit. “Not a number then? Damn I was almost excited.”

“Actually, the candidate is the potential number. She set up a meeting and started a case file." Root lifted those flirty eyebrows and gave a small grin, "Let me take care of getting you actually excited first and then we can look at the file while we have breakfast.” As soon as Root’s lips closed over Shaw’s Bear huffed slightly and got off the bed. He was, after all, a very smart dog.

***

“I’m Shaw. This is Root.” Shaw didn't reach over to shake the offered hand of the trim woman with a no-nonsense haircut and sensible shoes, standing in front of their table, as she was busy having second breakfast and had her priorities firmly set.

Root shook the woman’s hand and motioned her to the open chair at their table. “You must be Claire. Welcome.” 

The two of them made small talk for a few minutes until Shaw finished eating and pushed her plate away. “So, you've been a nurse and now you want to be a housekeeper? Sounds a bit weird to me.” 

Claire seemed momentarily taken aback by Shaw’s blunt statement, but her eye contact didn't waver. “I raised two kids; I can cook, clean and sew. Other than the fact I have no professional experience and don’t speak Dutch, I have all the skills listed in your online job posting. Thought I’d take a chance and apply.”

Root smiled at the woman’s open response to Shaw’s bluntness, apparently she was no shrinking violet. “We are more interested in why you are considering an occupational change.”

Claire’s shoulders dropped slightly at Root’s question and she was toying with the napkin on the table, although she didn't look away. “My previous employer forced me to resign if I wished to keep my nursing license and won’t give me a reference. I do disaster relief when the need arises and I need my license for that, so I gave in. Now I'm looking for something different.”

Root glared narrowly at Shaw, forestalling any of her comments, “Can you tell us more about that?”

Claire looked Root squarely in the eyes before replying. “The short version is I thought there was a problem with either drug diversion or the use of bogus drugs in the hospital. It was showing up sporadically, but since I work in many different areas, I realized something was off. I reported my concerns through the appropriate channels and thought nothing of it. Two days later I was pulled off the floor and into a meeting with a security guard and a suit, neither of whom identified themselves. I was told an investigation had proof I was diverting drugs for my own use and to avoid a lawsuit from the patients I had stolen the drugs from, they were willing to let me resign without references and keep my license. If I pursued the matter, they would have me arrested and use the full legal capabilities of the HMO to ensure I never worked in nursing again.” Claire gave a strangled hiccup and continued. “That’s the first time I said that out loud and now I realize I sound like a user, a thief or I'm paranoid. None of which are conducive to trusting me in your home. I'm sorry to have wasted your time. This was a mistake.”

Root laid her hand on Claire’s arm as the woman started to rise from her seat. “We haven’t changed our minds yet. Shaw and I are private investigators and we've found that when it’s a person against a corporation, it’s usually not the person that’s covering up something illegal.”

“Sit down and tell us the whole story.” Shaw said. “We have some experience at bringing down giants.”

When they parted ways an hour later, Root and Shaw had a probationary housekeeper and Claire had some new found hope. Shaw was upbeat that she had gotten a second breakfast, that she wouldn't need to go furniture shopping for the new place, and that the possibility of some covert operations were on the horizon. She was also pretty sure she could talk Root into some personal covert operations; in fact, probably no talking would be needed at all.


	11. A Bet is Placed!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw has a competitive streak. So does Root. When the right wager is on the table (not THAT table) who really loses?

Shaw threw the remote control down beside her on their pathetic excuse for a couch. She was tired of watching cheesy movies on Netflix while Root did nerd stuff at the table. She contemplated the last mouthful of Scotch in her glass enjoying the low grade buzz going on. Shaw tried to decide how close its color matched Root’s eyes when she was smiling on a sunny day, which of course, led her to what was really irritating her. She had been free and clear of furniture shopping duty until she had drunkenly bragged to Root about her knife throwing skills. Root, equally under the influence, immediately challenged Shaw to put up or shut up. If Shaw won, Root would burn the bunny slippers, but if Root won, then Shaw had to go furniture shopping. Thank goodness both of them had been just sober enough that Root had taken off her jeans before draping the legs on either side of the target. Now she took delighted glee in wearing those jeans with the damn holes through the thigh, flaunting the proof of Shaw’s failure.

Shaw surreptitiously studied Root, the scrunched up nose and irritated tapping of the hated bunny slipper implied things were not going well. Root looked determinedly focused on that computer screen. Perhaps Shaw could use that to her advantage. A glimmer of an idea started to coalesce in her mind. She dug around in her gym bag on the floor beside her, coming up with her wireless ear buds and music player. She scrolled through her playlists until she found a suitable one and pressed play, but kept the ear buds in her hand for now.

“Root?”

“Hmpff?” Root didn't lift her gaze from her laptop screen.

“You know that I'm Robin Hood and you’re Will Scarlett from the movie we watched yesterday right?”

“That’s nice.” After a few seconds of silence Root’s head snapped around and she blinked twice until she focused on Shaw’s face. “What? There’s no way that’s true.”

“I'm a trained sniper; I've got a laser focus to get the job done. I can ignore everything else around me. That was Robin Hood in that movie. I bet you, on the other hand, are easily distracted, like Will Scarlett when Robin tickled his ear with the arrow.”

“I heard the magic word ‘bet’. What do you have in mind Sweetie?”

“When I win, you go furniture shopping without me.”

“And if I win?”

“I’ll ….. I’ll wear the bunny slippers for a week.” Root made a give me more signal with her hand and Shaw sighed, “And you can take one picture of me in them.”

“Done!” Root said quickly and Shaw inwardly gave herself a high five for neatly trapping Root in her plan. “What’s the bet?”

“You work on your nerd box. I bet I’ll distract you into stopping in less than ten minutes.”

“Okay… but my hands have to be free to reach the keyboard and I have to be able to see the monitor.” And because Root was feeling sure of herself, and really, what did she have to lose, she stopped with only those two stipulations. Even if she lost, she was pretty sure she was going to be a winner, but the competitive streak in her rose swiftly to the surface.

“Set a timer nerd girl and prepare to lose!” Shaw gave Root a sexy wink and shot her with a finger gun.

Root programmed in the time, looked Shaw square in the eye, simply said, “Go” and then dropped her eyes to her monitor and started typing, with only a very tiny smirk on the corners of her lips.

_Will Scarlett my ass. Watch me beat this code into submission while simultaneously winning this bet._

_What? Shaw’s just going to saunter to the opposite side of the table and that’ll distract me?_

_Oh… look at how defined her shoulder blades are in that tank top._

_Letting her hair down, I love it when she lets her hair down._

_No! Focus. If I fold this piece of code back on itself._

_She’s got ear buds in, her ears are so damn cute, like little elf ears or maybe a pixie. Not sure which one._

_Oh shit. She’s dancing. Even baggy grey sweatpants can’t detract from that perfect ass._

_I did not know her hips could move like that._

_That is hot. So hot. Like burning hot._

_Firewall. Let me try that algorhythm…_

_She’s turned around. Look how gorgeous her eyes are, half shut like that._

_No! Don’t lick your lips._

_When did she take her bra off? I’m pretty sure she had it on before._

_I am definitely sure she had it on before._

_Look away! Do NOT imagine those hands touching me like that. Don’t!_

_Look at the screen! Stop hyperventilating. That’s embarrassing._

_Wait? Where did she go?_

_Oh. My. God. Under the table._

_Why did I wear a dress today? That was a bad decision. Or maybe a good one. No. No. it was a bad one._

_For fuck’s sake. Get your head in the game._

_Her palms are so hot. They’re burning my thighs. I bet they're leaving marks. Red hot hand prints._

_Soft. Her hands are so soft. Like velvet, except that callous on her trigger finger._

_Shit. A predatory tiger, climbing my legs. That is insanely hot._

_Straddling my lap. Could this get any better? I mean worse. Could this get any worse?_

_Is the ten minutes up yet?_

_Lap dance. Sameen Shaw, killer of men, shooter of kneecaps, denier of all things fuzzy is giving me a lap dance._

_Mother of god. Please have mercy._

_Don’t lick my neck. Fuck. Too late._

_I bet her mouth tastes like Scotch._

_I bet my neck tastes like Scotch now._

_If I tip my head a bit to the left I can… um …. see the screen better._

_Typing ;alkdhlhf;agh can’t be good. Shaw won’t know that isn't real code._

_I can lie._

_How much time is left?_

_Shaw in bunny slippers. Shaw in bunny slippers._

_I’ll just shift her in my lap a bit so I can… um… reach the keyboard better. Yeah, that’s it._

_Bare legs. When did she take her sweat pants off?_

_No underwear._

_No wait! A thong! A THONG!!! – What?? Where did that come from? What color is it?_

_Who cares???????_

_Fuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkk it! If you can’t be the winner, DO the winner!_

Root captured Shaw’s mouth completely with her own, and grabbed Shaw firmly under the thighs. She hoisted them both to standing as Shaw wrapped her legs tightly around Root’s waist and sucked on Root’s lower lip. Root kicked the chair out of the way, much more vehemently than necessary and carried Shaw to the bedroom.

Neither of them heard the timer go off.

Neither of them cared.


	12. Furniture Gets Purchased

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root pays up on her lost bet.
> 
> No sexy stuff... sadly, in this chapter...

Root sat on a black leather couch in the middle of the furniture store as an eager salesman hovered nearby and contemplated how she was supposed to make a decision. She hadn’t planned on doing any of this herself, figuring she and Shaw would hand the reins over to their housekeeper. But a bet was a bet, and Root felt it was only fair she paid the price of losing, especially since she had lost in such a spectacular manner.

Normal people probably did stuff like this all the time. She had seen numerous magazines devoted to interior design and furniture and upscale living while in line at the grocery store before, but had never stopped to contemplate the implications. And now, here she was, staring those implications squarely in the face.

Shaw’s decorating style was minimalist at best: a bed, a place to store weapons and an easel. Root hadn’t ever asked about the easel she had noticed in the corner while tasing Shaw in her bed. Yet anyway.

Root had never had an even remotely permanent place to call her own, always living in temporary furnished accommodations or hotels. As a hacker and killer for hire, she had appropriated places that suited her needs for the duration of a job. And then The Machine had provided living quarters suitable for her numerous aliases.

Root had met people who were attached to inanimate objects before, taking furniture and other things with them when they moved. She hadn’t understood at the time. Although she had come to realize recently maybe it wasn’t the object itself, but the memories it held. Shaw and she had made a pretty fantastic memory on the dining room table and Root found she wanted to see that table in their new place. To be able to look at it whenever she wanted and instantly be reminded of what had transpired on top of it.

But how to start from scratch and choose what went into their house? Root had no idea how to proceed. She knew of no algorhythm and TM didn’t have enough experience to help her with the task.

As Root spotted Claire entering the store, she stood up and spoke to the salesman. “Put this on my account and hold it until you get the delivery details.” Perhaps it was enough to just pick a piece of furniture and make the memories surrounding it with the one you loved.

****  
Claire was expecting to meet Root and Shaw in their office this time, as they had business to discuss. Instead, the address she received by text, and she had checked it twice, was for an upscale furniture store. She hesitantly stepped inside, spotting Root almost instantly walking towards the dining room display area. As she approached, Root bent slightly to spread open some papers on a table and Claire caught sight of the hand gun grip above the waistband of her jeans as her leather jacket rose up at the movement.

“Is Shaw joining us?” Claire asked politely, shifting her gaze off the gun and back to Root’s face.

Root’s laugh, while not at all loud, was so musical in its joy that several customers glanced their way. “Shaw would rather stab herself repeatedly in the eye with an ice pick than discuss furniture. We’d like you take over choosing furniture as neither of us is very interested in picking it. This is the floor plan for our new place. I’ve indicated the rooms that need to be furnished first. We have a table similar to this one,” Root said as she lovingly ran her hand across the table top. Claire was struck by the odd look of longing that crossed Root’s face before vanishing completely, “and I’ve already chosen that couch over there. Otherwise, the choice is yours. We like open and uncluttered furniture and while we are partial to leather, anything durable will be acceptable. Bear, our dog, does like to sneak onto the couch when he thinks he can get away with it. The only other factor is that everything must be sturdy. Really sturdy. We can be quite hard on furniture.” Root folded up the floor plan and handed it to Claire with an envelope. “Here’s your company credit card and the key codes to the doors and alarm system. Feel free to get started as soon as you can.”

Root’s phone gave out a single beep and she checked the display. “Shaw’s ready for us. Let’s go.”

“Is your office near here then?”

Root gave a wry smile, “We don’t actually have an office.”

“Isn’t that unusual in your line of work?”

“Shaw and I are just starting out in the private sector. We used to be … contractors…. for the government and they gave us office space.”

“What did you do for the government? Wait… If you’d have to kill me if you tell me, then let me remain a poor blissful fool in the dark.”

Root gave an enigmatic smile at that comment. “Mostly we worked in cyber crime and domestic terrorism. Sometimes our talents were needed for corporate espionage cases. We have well rounded backgrounds.”

“What prompted you to go into the private field? Especially in this economy?”

Root looked Claire straight in the face with unwavering eye contact as they stopped in front of a pizza place. “Three of our team members were killed. Shaw and I decided it was time to go out on our own rather than form a new team.”

Claire leaned forward and touched Root’s arm briefly, never breaking eye contact. “That must have been very hard for you both.”

Root gave a small shrug. “I think being together is the only thing that has kept us going.” And Root opened the door and led Claire to a table way in the back.

While Shaw devoured an entire pizza, Claire and Root munched distractedly on another one while they viewed personnel files on the laptop Shaw had brought with her. Claire quickly picked out the security guard from her meeting, but the other man wasn’t anywhere in the data base.

They parted ways shortly thereafter, Root carrying her beloved laptop and Shaw carrying beloved (and now all hers… you snooze you lose) leftover pizza, discussing and discarding various plans as they walked back to the subway.


	13. Time for Dress UP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to get the plan in motion.

Root reclined against the wall at the head of their bed, idly picking at the hem of her over-sized Eeyore night shirt. She was frustrated and Shaw wasn’t helping things.

“I still think this is the wrong way to do this!” She loudly griped.

“I know you do Root, but this is what we’re stuck with. Can we move on already?”

Root sighed and slid further down in the bed, dejectedly kicking the blankets off her bare legs. “But I know nothing about pharmacology. At least you could doctor speak your way out of any problems; I won’t have The Machine whispering the answers in my ear.”

Shaw’s voice sounded strangely muffled. “Root, you’re going in as a JCAHO pharmacy inspector. No one is going to ask you any questions you can’t charm your way out of. Just flash them your thousand watt smile and change the subject.”

“I would have been a kick ass security guard.” Root whispered under her breath.

“Look Root.” Shaw now clearly called back from the main room. “No matter how much you whine and pout, there weren’t a lot of uniforms to choose from. It’s not my fault you have freakishly long legs. Don’t get me wrong,” she hastened to clarify, “I love your legs, but it’s difficult to steal pants off the rack for you when there is such a limited supply to choose from.”

Shaw stepped smartly into the bedroom in a well-tailored security guard uniform. Tie perfectly knotted at her throat, her hair was pulled back into a no nonsense bun, and above it her flat top cap was set perfectly perpendicular to the floor.

Root’s jaw dropped and she rapidly pushed herself up to a fully sitting position against the wall.

Shaw winked at Root, casually hooked her thumbs into the top of her utility belt and thrust her hips forward ever so slightly. The gesture was not lost on Root.

“Like what you see Groves?”

Root finally remembered to close her mouth, wondering how she had never realized how spectacular Shaw would look in a uniform. Carefully and very slowly, she perused every inch of Shaw from the top to the bottom. Unable to resist one last dig, she pointedly stared at Shaw’s feet, “Your pants are too long.”

“You want me to take them off?” Shaw asked, rocking back on her heels, giving Root her thousand yard stare and casually popping the closure on her utility belt.

“Uh-huh” Root whispered, seemingly at a loss for words as she stared at Shaw undoing the buckle. “I want you to take it all off.”

Shaw dropped the belt with a loud thump and Root's eyes tracked Shaw’s fingers as they rapidly progressed up the shirt placket, one frantic button at a time.

“Keep. The. Tie. On.”

Shaw’s fingers paused almost imperceptibly but Root, who was unable to drag her eyes away, saw it and shivered.

As the shirt dropped to the floor Root finally looked up and made eye contact. Shaw found it both disconcerting and breathtaking all at once that Root’s pupils were blown so wide her brown eyes were black; the kind of deep black a person could lose their soul in and never complain.

Shaw started to lift her hands above shoulder level before she paused and swallowed audibly. “And the hat?”

Root licked her lips, before flashing a feral grin and her right eyebrow twitched, “Leave it on Shaw.”

Clad only in tie and hat, Shaw climbed onto the foot of their bed. Grabbing Root by the ankles she yanked her down flat, shocking the breath out of her and causing that damn Eeyore shirt to ride up revealing a tantalizing display of bare flesh.

Never breaking eye contact, Shaw reverently picked up Root’s foot and placed a soft, damp kiss on her instep. “Now, about those freakishly long legs…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay. I've had a bit of a writer's block. More will be coming. Comments are always welcome!


	14. Night Shifts Suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spending nights apart.... damn jobs...

3 AM.

AM or PM rarely mattered when Root was a full time hacker for hire. Fueled by too much caffeine and the need to bend some elusive code to her will, Root almost never cared what time it was. But since the fall of Samaritan and co-habitating with Shaw, she almost never saw 3 AM anymore, sticking to more traditional waking periods. But with Shaw on night shift, there wasn't any good reason not to let her sleep schedule align with Sameen's. When Shaw came home tired and grumpy and climbed into their bed slightly chilled from the early morning temperatures, Root was more than ready to cuddle up beside her and drift off to sleep together, to be followed of course, by lazy afternoons spent in bed, NOT sleeping.

With a backrest of every single one of their pillows and Bear snoring softly next to her on Shaw's side of the bed, Root worked on a project that only saw the light of day (as it were) when Shaw wasn't there. Shaw wouldn't know or in fact care what Root was working on, but she wanted it to be a complete surprise when she perfected it and presented it to Shaw like the labor of love it was.

Her earpiece sprang to life as it usually did at about this time in Shaw's shift.

"This is the most dumbass job I have ever had." Shaw grumped around whatever she was eating.

"Worse than perfume girl?"

Shaw paused her chewing long enough to consider that. "Well, occasionally this really hot but annoying chick would visit me there and try to entice me to take my break with her. This job only has a very small and I mean, very small, chance of getting to beat some creep up to redeem it. Then again, I don't have to smell all that expensive crap and the shoes are better in this job... and I get as many zip ties as I want..... so second most dumbass job ever I guess."

Root closed her laptop and put her glasses on the bedside table. "Wanna have phone sex?"

Shaw snorted, "That only works out well for you - we've already proven that on multiple occasions. I'm just calling to let you know I'm going to be late getting home."

"What's up? Can I join you?"

"My boss finally took me up on all the hints I've been dropping that I need to earn extra money and I'm not too fussy how. I have what he's loosely termed a job interview (Root sword she could hear Shaw's eyes rolling in her head) in the gym after our shift is over."

"Why the gym?"

"I think is a fighting skills test. I'm going to wipe the floor up with his smarmy ass."

Root could hear Shaw cracking her neck and popping her shoulder, apparently getting excited over the prospect of some solid hand to hand that didn't end with the two of them ripping each other's clothes off after five minutes. "Now Sameen, we've already had this pep talk once, a long time ago. You can be good, just not too good."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it...B+ level. Doesn't mean I can't get a few lucky hits in before I let him take me down."

"True. Just be sure to save the clothes ripping part for when you get back home".

.....

Shaw slipped into bed, spooning up to Root's back, her energy so palpable Root was sure Shaw was giving off sparks. Root wriggled her butt back squarely into Shaw's groin and was rewarded with a quick indrawing of Shaw's breath. Shaw's hand started groping for the bottom of Root's t-shirt.

"How did the job interview go?" Root asked before biting her bottom lip as Shaw's hand gave up trying for the shirt hem and trailed upwards over top of the shirt to grope pleasantly as Root's breast.

"He was crappier than I thought he'd be. I barely even got a chance to warm up before I had to let him win. Now I have a lot of pent up.... enthusiasm.... to work off." Shaw's hand trailed down Root's hip. "And you don't have any underwear on...."

"I was hoping my lover would come home and take advantage of me... but I liked the panties I was wearing and wanted to avoid the ripping...." Root extended her chin, giving Shaw full access to the side of her neck as her breathing quickened. Shaw's hands were already dancing across naked, sensitive flesh as Root swallowed a moan.

Shaw sucked on Root's pulse point for a few moments and then moved her lips up to whisper in Root's left ear, "I refuse to settle for anything less than an A+ here. No matter how long it takes."

Root grabbed the back of Shaw;'s head and drew her face to where she could initiate a deep kiss. When they came up for air, Root was on her back and Shaw was already moving to straddle her. Root smiled, "Let's get the exam started then."

No matter how much night shifts suck.... there is way more sucking when the shift is over.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist the "there was plenty of sucking" reference.


	15. APS Comes Calling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's sooooo short..... sorry.... more coming soon.....

Having spilled #hotsaucefordays all over Shaw's Tshirt, that she might have been wearing without Shaw's knowledge, Root was standing at the sink scrubbing with a ferocity not usually seen around domestic chores, when her phone rang. Bear wandered over from eating the last bit of spilled steak and soft taco shell (he didn't mind the hot sauce) to stand next to Root, hoping for some ear scratches while Root was on the phone.

Root took a deep breath to calm herself before answering. "What's up Sameen? Miss me in the last ten minutes since we hung up?"

"First I'm going to remind you if you give Bear any of that hot sauce laced taco, you're on poop patrol for the next two days." Root gave Bear a lopsided "wink" and held her finger to her lips in the universal "let's be quiet about this" sign.

"So noted. And is the second thing how much you are looking forward to getting naked with me later?"

"No. It's about the mission...." Root swore she could hear Shaw trying not to laugh as she said that. "Bryce changed our breaks and our patrol pattern for the rest of the shift. I'll be over in the remotest reaches of the hospital campus from 5 am till shift change. Only Bryce and Rupert will be free to roam."

"Has he done that before?"

"Nope. I think a delivery will be coming in. If it was me orchestrating a surreptitious delivery to a hospital, that's the time zone I would pick. Less people around on night shift and by then they're getting tired and not paying attention. Day shift hasn't started arriving yet. Best chance of being detected by as few people as possible."

"Well then, I guess its time Kirsten Breck, JCAHO pharmacy inspector made her planned but date and time unknown pre-accreditation visit."

"Make sure you come armed... just in case"

"Oh please Sweetie.... when do I ever go anywhere without a surprise or two up my sleeve?"

Shaw cut the connection, leaving Root standing there with a sopping wet Tshirt in her hand.

"What do you think Bear? Can I order a new shirt online, and get it here before I have to reveal the hot sauce incident?" Bear cocked his head to the side, looking first at Root and then at the shirt and then back at Root before letting out a little whine. "Yeah, I don't think so either buddy. I'm going to get busted over this."


	16. Damn Those PDA's

Root smiled absently at the security guard smoking near the front entrance as she made her way into the hospital. Pretending to use her cell phone, she casually triggered her ear bud, “I’m just coming in the front doors now.”

A double tap came instead of an answer, indicating Shaw heard her but was unable to respond vocally.

“Acknowledged. I hope it’s not too hot in there Sweetie.” Root closed the channel and continued down to the sub-basement. There were no signs giving directions to the pharmacy as it was usually wise NOT to advertise where a large amount of narcotics were kept, but as befitted a duly authorized, or at least authorized by an exquisite fake ID, inspector, Root had memorized the quickest route to the doors closest to the narcotic vault.

***

With the ear piece of her radio in her left ear and her ear bud in her right, Shaw was feeling a bit insulated from the sounds around her as she commando crawled through the heating/ ventilation shaft to a spot overlooking the security camera feeds. As she expected, Franklin, Bryce’s second in command and main yes-man was on duty monitoring the cameras. Unable to be sure if the camera feeds would be shut off during the delivery, Shaw was planning to watch the live feeds in case they needed a second try at apprehending Bryce and his gang.

Shaw was getting hot and itchy as the shaft needed to be cleaned – she expected better from a hospital, not that she would let any of it bother her as she held her position, when the truck arrived. It was a non-descript panel van that nosed into the loading dock rather than backing in as was the standard protocol. On the plus side however, it gave her a perfect view of the license plate which she jotted down in her phone. The driver didn’t even get out, but opened his or her window as Bryce and Rupert walked up. An A3 box appeared out the window, which Bryce took quickly. It appeared a few words were exchanged and then the driver was pulling away.

Franklin, who was more interested in the porn he was streaming on his phone than on the monitor feeds, seemed quite oblivious to the delivery. If he was supposed to turn off the monitors, he had failed. Which was good news for them… as long as TM was properly recording the feeds…

Shaw was able to track Bryce and Rupert’s progress through the underground hospital levels via the cycling video feed. Eventually Rupert let them into the rear door of the narcotic vault where they disappeared from view. 

Root was standing toward the side of the open area when Rupert opened the door and the two of them barged in. Lillian, the pharmacy technician, rushed over from Root’s side to take the box, doing her best to shield it from Root’s view.

“Oh thank you Officer. I’ll just… just put this in Connie’s office. I’m sure she’ll appreciate you delivering it for her.” And with a brief glance at Root, Connie disappeared into an adjoining office. Bryce flicked his eyes briefly over to Root, who flashed the two men her 1000 Watt smile. The smile on his face appeared to falter a bit when he noticed the JCAHO logo embroidered on her lab coat.

As soon as the two men had cleared the pharmacy and the door had shut behind them, Rupert let out a soft wolf whistle. “Do you know who that was?”

“Based on her coat, I’d guess the accreditation inspector” Bryce said, grinding his teeth at the unfortunate timing.

“That was Shaw’s girlfriend.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I went to visit my grandma last week. Shaw and her came out of a brownstone getting renovated down the street. She was pretty handsy and practically had her tongue down Shaw’s throat. Shaw didn’t seem to mind though. She was pawing at the brunette’s ass the whole time.”

“Fuck” Bryce spit out as he keyed his radio, “Shaw?”

When Shaw heard her name through the radio ear piece she started beating a quiet but hasty retreat back through the duct. By the time she dropped into the cleaning closet access site Bryce was on his fourth attempt to raise Shaw on the radio. 

“Ya boss, what’s up” Shaw answered, striving for nonchalance.

“Where the hell are you?”

“Just finishing my round in the children’s wing. Thought I would head down for coffee. You want one?”

“That was the fourth time I called you. What took you so long?”

“These damn cheap ass radios are such a pain. That was the first time I heard you.”

“Meet me at the basement cage in 10 minutes.” Bryce thumbed out at quick text on his phone as Shaw acknowledged his order. “Rupert, make sure that dumb ass Franklin has turned off the video feeds from the cage and meet me there as soon as you can. I think Shaw and her girlfriend are up to something. This is way too big of a coincidence.”

“You want me to get the girlfriend?”

“No. Let’s see what Shaw has to say for herself first. I texted Lillian to keep her occupied for now.”

***

Shaw thumbed out a quick text to let Root know where she was going as she hustled across the campus to meet the deadline. She added her suspicion that their cover might have been blown so that Root could watch her step.  
She quietly let herself into the storage cage to find Bryce standing over at the far side of the room. He looked up as she entered and smiled, which was the last thing Shaw saw before a blinding flash of pain reverberated through her skull and darkness claimed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PDA's = public displays of affection
> 
> Hospitals really do not have any signage pointing the way to pharmacy. If you have business going there, someone has shown you the way.
> 
> It is called a storage cage, because it is often a very large area in the bowels of the hospital with a bunch of chain link fencing enclosing a variety of spaces, so that different departments can store stuff there. In reality, it becomes a junk depository and no one but the housemen and the security guards ever go down there.
> 
> Feedback is always welcome. I appreciate ALL the comments, so if you have a second.... I'd love to hear from you...


	17. Payback is a Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have absolutely no idea how to write a fight. I was in one once. It lasted 10 seconds. She punched me in the mouth, knocked me down and walked off while I sat there spitting blood... so feel free to imagine some more details there.
> 
> Feed the author please... I love the comments.

Root wandered near the basement cage. “Shaw? Where are you baby? Is it hide and seek time?” Root tried to instill as much innuendo as she could into the comments, raising her voice so she could hear it over her pounding heart. This was so easy when she had God in her ear. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

Rupert stepped out of a previously locked door with a puzzled look on his face. Lillian was supposed to have taken care of this woman. He tried (and failed) to look casual as he leaned against the door, blocking it with his body. “Can I help you?”

“Just looking for my girlfriend. She sexted me and I’m looking forward to… well, you know.” Root flashed him a smile. It was her crazy serial killer smile, the one that put people at ease when it should have convinced them to start running and never look back.

“She ain’t down here. She’s over in the children’s wing.” Rupert took Root’s arm, which was his first mistake, and started to point in the direction Root should go, which was his second and last mistake.

Root reached under his outstretched arm, smoothly lifted his gigantic flashlight from his utility belt and clubbed him across the chin. He crumpled into a heap, probably before he even realized what had happened. To add insult to his injury, Root zip tied his feet and wrists together with the ties she took off his belt. She thought about using the syringe in her boot to be sure, but decided against it for now. Not knowing how many could be in the next room made her conscious of needing to conserve her resources.

Slipping quietly through the door, Root found herself in a small dark hallway. Even the cement walls weren’t enough to cover the heavy thrum from a nearby generator. An oily smell permeated the close air and an oppressive heat had her shedding her lab coat immediately. She didn’t remember seeing this hallway on the floor plans, and was unsure how far and where it went.

Stealthily she slipped along the dark edge of the corridor, watching as best she could for debris on the ground that might signal her presence. On the plus side, hopefully the darkness would help conceal her presence. The hallway seemed to go on forever, but was probably less than a hundred steps. Peering cautiously around a corner, Root could see it opened into a room a bit further down. The room had slightly better lighting than the hallway, as if they’d used a 60 watt light bulb instead of a 40.

Shaw was sitting on the floor, her arms zip tied to the fence above her head, stretching her shoulders at an odd angle. Her head hung down, her mouth slack. The hair over one side of her temple was wet and matted down. Something was dripping steadily from Shaw’s chin. Although Root wished it was drool, at that speed it was most likely blood.

Root tried to tamp down the fear that felt like a piece of barbed wire wrapping tightly around her chest. It was difficult to get a full breath and her heart rate sped up slightly, trying to compensate. Stepping silently into the room, Root refusing to look at Shaw after she quickly reassured herself Shaw was still breathing and her skin color was good. Bryce casually leaned against a table on the far side of the room with a bored expression on his face. A hint of surprise washed over his features before he schooled it away. “I was expecting Rupert”

“He won’t be joining us.”

“Not surprised. He was shit at his job even for a rent-a-cop. Lillian was supposed to keep you occupied until I finished with your girlfriend.” Bryce laced the last word with great disdain.

“She had dead batteries in her taser.” Root said with a little chuckle. “When you want a job done right, never hire amateurs.”

Bryce reached into the utility pouch on his belt that usually held pepper spray, and pulled out a butterfly knife. The ease with which he flipped it open suggested he was very familiar with the weapon. “Whatever Shaw may have told you about my skills, I’m no amateur. Give up now and I’ll make it quick and painless for both of you.”

“It’s been far too long since I taught anyone a lesson. And I’m itching to rectify that.” Root thought leading with bravado might counteract the tightness in her chest. Fake it until you become it and all that jazz.

Bryce swooped in and slashed up and across while trying to take her legs out from under her. 

Root dodged back and to the side, “Now this just got interesting.”

A fair amount of back and forth ensued; Bryce trying for the quick take down repeatedly, and Root trying to maneuver things to her best advantage. Finally Bryce got a well-timed slash in and cut across Root’s torso. Overextended to the side, Root grabbed his arm, forcing his wrist up and back until he dropped the knife. As Root kicked it away, Bryce took advantage of her momentary distraction and punched her squarely in the mouth with his other hand, hard enough to stagger her briefly.

Root’s eyes fell on Shaw who was owlishly studying her with one eye closed and looking quite green around the edges. She gave Root a brief chin nod. Root spit blood on the floor and a big, bloody smile crossed her face as she turned back to face Bryce.

“Why are you smiling at me?”

“I wasn’t smiling at you.” Root felt a lightness float through her chest now that Shaw was awake and at least passably okay. She set in with a slightly unhinged quality to her movements, as if she was free to do as she pleased now. Clearly stunning Bryce with her sudden transformation, she got in numerous face and rib punches to very few hits of his that connected with anything important. Bryce might be good with a knife, but Root was way better at hand to hand. After all, she’d had Shaw as a teacher.

Root succeeded in maneuvering Bryce in close enough to knee him in the balls (guys never expected that), followed by a reverse leg sweep. Bryce face planted on the floor at Root’s feet and before he could push himself up, Root had the syringe out of her boot and into his neck. As she pushed the plunger, the last thing Bryce heard was a slurred “good night asshole” from Shaw.


	18. Rules Are So Restricting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now what?

There were some serious benefits to being (sort of) law abiding citizens with “legitimate” backgrounds and jobs. These included a CT scan to check for intracranial bleeding and a plastic surgery resident to stitch up Shaw’s head wound. The resident even reassured Shaw there wouldn’t be a scar. Shaw got half way through the eye roll at that piece of unnecessary news before a wave of nausea passed over her and caused a rapid abort.

There were also serious drawbacks though. Where before they could anonymously shoot kneecaps and leave the onerous task of providing proof to The Machine, and all the paperwork to Fusco, now they had to do both themselves and justify their actions. How unfair was that?

Many, many hours later Root finally finished giving her statement to the investigating officer with a promise to have all digital files sent over by messenger as soon as she got home. Claire was on the bench just outside the interview room, clearly waiting for her chance to give her own statement. She rose and took both of Root’s hands into her own. 

“Thank you so much! I know it’s not over yet, but at least we’re finally getting somewhere.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad there’s an end in sight for you now. How did the move go?”

“Everything’s been moved although I didn’t put anything personal away. I thought you might want to decide where everything goes on your own. I did however have time to do some laundry. Including a few shirts I found balled up at the very back of the top cupboard shelf.”

A panicky look crossed Root’s face as she quickly looked around to make sure Shaw wasn’t close enough to hear them.

“Based on their location, I was pretty sure you were the guilty party. Don’t worry. I took care of those stains and your secret is safe with me!” Claire mimed zipping her lips and gave Root a big wink just as the detective called her into the interview room.

Root could hardly believe her luck. She had thought Shaw would never let her hear the end of it when she found out. Humming under her breath something that sounded a lot like Queen’s “We Are the Champions”, Root went to collect Shaw and take her home.

***

Root climbed into the back seat of the waiting town car and pulled Shaw in after her. Shaw just rested her head against the seat back with her eyes closed. She hung on to Root’s hand though, finding the contact seemed to make the world spin less. The last time she’d had a concussion this bad, she’d been undercover in Gdansk. She’d gone to ground after taking her target out and holed up in a broom closet of a room at some flop house. She’d passed out on the bed and woken up 26 hours later, dehydrated with a massive headache, but she could see well enough to get herself out of the country. There had been no CT, no stitches, and no one who cared enough to take her home and look after her. So, as annoying as it was to have the car stop at a grocery store so Root could pick ginger ale up for her nausea, Shaw felt a warm glow of something in her chest. It was good to know someone had her back even when they weren’t on a mission.

When they pulled up outside of the brownstone, Shaw was a bit confused, having totally forgotten about today’s move. They entered the foyer together, with Shaw immediately sitting down on the bench just inside the front door.

“What should I make you to eat Sweetie?” Root asked as she knelt down to unlace Shaw’s boots, correctly surmising that bending down would worsen Shaw’s nausea. “I imagine Claire has stocked us up with the basics.”

“No food Root.” Shaw said with her eyes closed and her head back against the wall. “I’m way too nauseous to eat. I want a shower and bed. Our bed. In our home. Together.”

After their shower, Root managed to get half a can of ginger ale into Shaw, who immediately closed her eyes and waved vaguely at Root.  
“Turn the lights out and come to bed. You can be the big spoon.”

Refusing food and giving up the big spoon role left Root concerned. Nevertheless she climbed into bed and cuddled up to Shaw’s back. Shaw groped behind her for Root’s arm and then pulled it snugly over her abdomen, ensuring Root’s body was touching hers as much as possible.  
“You are so hot when you kick ass. Especially on my behalf. You are amazing.” And before Root could even think of an suggestive reply to that, Shaw was asleep.

*****  
Shaw was sprawled on her belly, blankets haphazardly covering random parts of her body, her right foot suspended off the bed. Based on the small drool pool on the sheet, Bear was licking Shaw’s toes so gently she hadn’t even moved. 

Root waved a plate of strawberry cream cheese stuffed French toast temptingly close to Shaw’s nose. Seven seconds later Shaw’s head lifted off the bed and her eyes blinked open as her stomach growled loud enough to briefly startle Bear.

“Gimme” Shaw said and almost knocked Root over in her enthusiasm to sit up. She groaned and stopped her movements, closing her eyes briefly, taking a steadying breath and then opening them again. This time she moved slowly and deliberately until her back was against the headboard. She took the mild painkillers Root handed her and chased them down with a glass of water.

“How’s your head Sweetie?”

“Not too bad if I don’t move too fast. I’m starving though, so it was probably worth it if I get food faster.” They sat next to each other, companionably eating from their own plates (Root knew better than to try and eat off of Shaw’s plate). When they were done, Shaw patted her now full belly. “We better hire Claire, that was fantastic.”

“Maybe we should wait until everything is finished before we ask her. You have a few more breakfasts to look forward to until then.”

“Okay.” Shaw said with a sigh, whistling for Bear to get up on the bed. He obediently settled down between her legs, pillowing his head across Shaw’s thigh so he could see Root. Shaw quietly scratched at his ears for a few minutes as Root sipped her coffee and waited patiently.

“Root, I’m angry.”

Root was puzzled by this statement as Shaw appeared calm and at ease. “At what?”

“Maybe angry isn’t the right word. I’m…ashamed? Pissed off? I’m not exactly sure. But I am sure its ridiculous that I walked right into that. I didn’t see it coming.”

“No one’s perfect Sameen.”

“I was so used to having actual killers waiting around every corner that I got complacent. I wasn’t on guard like I should have been. I was lazy and unprepared and its thanks to you I’m not dead.”

“Sameen, are you embarrassed some asshole got the jump on you?”

“Um. Maybe? I don’t like it whatever it is. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to go back to the ‘are we going to die today’ tiems but I need a bit more…”

“A bit more challenge? Excitement? Risk?”

“Yeah, all of that. I want… need … want… whatever, to use my skills more. To beat the crap out of someone without concern for the consequences. To not have to go through the paperwork hell we did yesterday.”

Root got out of bed and dug around in her laptop bag. Finally she came up with a thumb drive. “I had planned to give you this on a special occasion, but…” and Root handed it to Shaw as she crawled back into bed with her.

“What is it?”

“It’s an expanded version of TM’s code. I wrote it so we could still kick ass when we wanted to.”

“A you and me against a bunch of bad guys thing? Off the books? No paperwork? No political correctness?”

“Yep. I call it ‘The Mayhem Protocol’”

“Sounds perfect for us!” And Shaw sealed it with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a great ride. It is my first ever "published" fan fiction (I wrote a multichapter Charlie's Angels fiction in about 1980 but since the internet didn't exist yet, it wasn't published anywhere). I hope you will join these characters and myself in a related work, titled "The Mayhem Protocol", which will be a series of one shots and short pieces, coming soon.  
> Feedback and comments are ALWAYS WELCOME!!!


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